


Company

by WizzyPieHigh9



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fanart, Gen, One Shot, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29827452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WizzyPieHigh9/pseuds/WizzyPieHigh9
Summary: Sitting back down, -rather slowly- he returned to work ignoring the shadows sitting in the corners of his room.Perhaps they would see light one day.Perhaps he would sleep one day.Eventually.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Company

**Author's Note:**

> *Sips cup of angs-Tea* ┬──┬ ノ( ゜-゜ノ)

Blinking, a sigh clenched through his teeth. Blimey. He had almost fallen asleep.

Having slipped head forwards due to his rather gnarly state, he sat propping his hands against the desk. The pen -rolled to the side- long since forgotten, his hair askew, the perfectly worn mask of facade since fallen. Oh how too easy it would be to just... sleep.

Snapping back up as his head began to droop _again,_ he bit the corner of his cheek leaning back against the chair. And what a comfortable chair it was. The woolen softness of its frame cradled his back making it so easy to just... No.

Weariness. All over. 

The clock chimed in the back. 2 o'clock.

A.M.

The calls, the paperwork, the meetings, and with Sherlock and the whole mess concerning Eurus, it all weighed on his mind. Heavily. Not even any of his usual techniques could block the flow of data seeping from his mind. Reverberating against his skull, bouncing back and forth, it chanted. _You were wrong. You were very very wrong._

_"You should have done better."_

Couldn't he be stronger?

Sherlock. It always seemed to revolve around back to his little brother. Did it not?

_"He tried his best."_

Bile rose to his throat. Eurus, a murderer. Sherlock, a murderer. And himself, -no- not even his own hands were clean. But, in such cold blood? Against people that were relatively innocent? Carding through his sweaty hair, he shook. And he was the supposed Ice Man.

_"Then he's very limited."_

No, it was circumstances fault that his siblings, his ...family, did what they did.

No, it was **his** fault.

No-

_"How could you?"_

How could he not take the blame?

Accounting for the fact that him and Sherlock were on worse terms that ever before, security remained just a tight and more so. Even if the blame befell on him for it, he would never leave them unsecured again. _Never._ Especially since this now involved mummy and daddy. However, instead of trusting others to the duties of ensuring everything was 'right and dandy' -considering he had made a plight blunder in trusting others before- it remained under the personal watchful eye of himself. Plus performing his governmental duties, and dealing with the Sherrinford incident while filing all the paperwork that had gotten delayed in his absence, that was just the smidge bit ontop of the surface of the duties now stacked upon him. He... was very unsorted.

Eurus, -as catatonic as she may appear- could **not** be trusted. No one could.

_"She's very clever."_

Could he begin to trust himself even?

_"I'm beginning to think your **not**."_

Both his brother and Eurus were under his care. _Safe._ Like they always were. Though, it hadn't always been **that** way.

Uncle Rudy.

Slamming his fist down against the desk he leaned forward hanging his head exhaustively. Why?

_"Oopsy. Can't handle a broken heart. How **very** telling."_

Sleep. It had not come as easy as it had before Sherlock got entangled in the trap Eurus laid for him. Ultimately so, this was followed by dragging their parents and Dr. Watson in the family dilemma.

_"This is a private matter."_

Mummy, was still not returning his calls.

_"John stays."_

It had been 2 months.

_"This is family."_

A month and a half since the family had gathered to visit Eurus. And in that time, his sister still had not spoken. Also, in a bitter truth of the matter, there had been no invite back to visit her like the cordial request from before. Nonetheless, due to the security footage and his own methods of security, everyone was fine. **Everyone.** Even John. **  
**

_"THAT'S WHY HE STAYS!"_

It was horrid. But, in a strange way wonderful. In that moment it all held that tad bit of normalcy that... every Goldfish of a family held. Horrid, because it all rang throughout his mind leaving him unable to block it out. Emotion. That stare. So empty. It penetrated him. Eurus, was his little sister. And, was this the consequences of his own doing?

Was Sherlock's life the consequences of his own doing?

_"There's a place for people like you, the desperate, the terrified, the ones with nowhere else to run."_

Did he even dare admit it?

_"What place?"_

It hurt.

_"221B Baker Street."_

Sighing with a shake of his head he swiftly brushed his hair aside. Too long since a haircut.

The pen seemed to pick up by itself almost seemingly glued in the palm of his hand. Beginning the tedious process, documents were once more signed again. For some posh mint apart of the bureaucratic government of who knows what branch wanted these signed, yesterday. But Bloody ####, he wanted to sleep. Only if he could.

"You know Mycie. Signing the calendar like that is very Gold-Fishy of you. Perhaps you should aim for the documents? Or better yet, sleep if your transport is _that_ compromised."

With a gasp, he looked.

"Sherlock?"

Oh.

Dropping the pen -as if it had hurt him- he realized. Sherly was right.

Bugger.

The past ten documents were not even signed. Rather... Looking over at the calendar, he could not help but to audibly sigh. On the large desk calendar there it shined, his name written in a perfect neat line.

Shuffling the papers to cover up his obvious lack of sleep he wished that the under eye bags were just as easy to cover up. Standing, his gaze couldn't seem to focus on Sherlock. Not like this.

3 weeks. _3 weeks._ It had been that long since he had seen Sherlock in person, and that was on one of his security runs. Maybe- _tilting_ he grabbed the side of the desk more firmly.

"How pathetic. Has it been a month? Oh, no... rather since Sherrinford?" Sherlock began to regress into that... deduction-like tone. Bother. "Really brother mine, sleep -or lack thereof-" Oh, probably a finger waggle as well knowing his brother. "-really shouldn't be such a troublesome matter. Especially when your trained-"

"What do you want?"

Of course, not that he meant to sound so harsh but he was in no mood for deductions. Not now. Not like this. With no response, he took a glance up.

_"Caring is not an advantage."_

"Im sor-"

...

Ah.

Again.

They say Fool him once, shame on them. Fool him twice, shame on him. Well, shame was **not** the correct term, but true nonetheless. Considering this was his own mind playing tricks on him, shame was earned either way.

Sitting back down, -rather slowly- he returned to work ignoring the shadows sitting in the corners of his room.

Perhaps they would see light one day.

Perhaps he would sleep one day.

Eventually.

However maybe for just right now, he did not want to sleep. Not just yet anyway. Because when waking up- he would miss the company.

"Brother mine... would you play a bit of your violin for me?"

**Author's Note:**

> Thankyou for everyone who has taken the time to read this story! (づ￣ ³￣)づ  
> -  
> Disclaimer:  
> Now, Major stuff!  
> I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK SHOW!  
> I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK OR ANY CHARACTERS AND/OR STORYLINES!  
> -  
> My Tumblr if yer interested:  
> WizzyPieHigh9 / ForgetCanon  
> ʘ‿ʘ  
> -  
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)  
> -  
> I do not own the random Derpy text faces. Btw... Just thought I'd point that out.  
> -  
> This Story Currently has no resources... It came straight from da brain... \ (•◡•) /  
> This Story is Currently "Completed"... \ (•◡•) /


End file.
